Worth The Risk
by kitteninthesky12
Summary: This fic is an AU in which the characters of DWP are living Les Mis. Enjoy :)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own neither Les Miserables nor The Devil Wears Prada in book or movie form. Which is for the best, I'm sure.**

**A/N: Thank you to menzosarres for the idea for this fic, the encouragement to write it, and the proper placement of commas ;)**

**Thank you to Jaz for reading it dutifully and listening to me worry constantly while typing incoherently in all caps.**

**And thank you, of course, to my incredible girlfriend ryaninthesky for having to deal with me shouting and flailing at 2 in the morning because I couldn't decide which direction I wanted a plot point to go.**

**I couldn't ask for better betas xo**

**And thanks to all of you out there for reading :) I hope you like it! This is my first mirandy fic, so I hope I do the fandom proud.**

Chapter 1

_Oh, oh no. He's walking over here. He's coming to talk to me again. I really wish he wouldn't, I have nothing to say to the likes of him_, Andrea thought as the foreman sauntered over leering at her. He came much too close and she accidentally pricked herself with her needle as she attempted to shy away from him. He proceeded to take her hands and ask if she was alright. She nodded politely, trying not to egg him on. _I know all the other women here despise me. I feel them watching, looking over their shoulders as he talks to me. I haven't even been here very long, but somehow I've managed to gain their distrust without even trying. Perhaps it's because the foreman favours me... It's not as though I want his attention. He's a disgusting pig._ Andrea tried not to flinch as the foreman touched any part of her he could get his grubby hands on. She knew she upset him by ignoring his advances, but she was afraid and wanted nothing more than for him to leave her alone. _I can feel those women looking over at me and I just know they've been talking about me. I don't want any trouble. I just... I have a family to provide for. I am minding my own business after all._ It was the end of the working day and everyone was putting away their tools and aprons. Andrea did her best to keep to herself. She held a letter in her hand and was hoping to leave the factory in order to rest before the next gruelling day at work. Unfortunately, one of the other women saw the letter and snatched it from her hand before Andrea was able to stop her. The woman opened the letter and began to read it aloud as some of the other women in the factory jeered at Andrea.

"Dear Andrea, you must send us more money. Your child needs a doctor, there's no time to lose." Some of the women surrounding Andrea gasped at this revelation.

"Give me that letter, it is none of your business." Andrea hissed as she snatched back the letter while the woman managed to look wholly affronted. "Is there anyone here who can say they've nothing to hide?"

"Give me that!" The woman grabbed the letter away from Andrea and began shouting "Foreman! Foreman!" as Andrea tried to wrestle the letter back again.

"Hey! Come on, stop that!" the foreman barked. "Madame. Priestly is here!"

* * *

At that precise moment, a very glamorous looking woman dressed in a man's jacket and pants made of the finest materials available sauntered in. Her outfit was topped off by perfectly coiffed silver hair. The woman in question was the infamous Miranda Priestly. Everyone knew about Miranda Priestly; she was second fiddle to none other than Nigel Kippling. Nigel owned and edited the _Journal des Dames et des Modes_, the premier fashion magazine in France. He owned about a dozen clothing factories as well as the magazine. It was well known that his opinion resonated throughout the fashion industry. It was rumoured that he would send Miranda Priestly out to his various factories to observe their progress on occasion, though a visit from the fashion maven was, nonetheless, extremely rare. Miranda Priestly was accompanied by a rather harried looking redheaded woman.

"Emily, I simply do not understand why it's so difficult to find a factory that operates efficiently." Miranda's low, smooth voice floated through the stale air of the factory. _Is this what I pay them for? To bicker? Hardly,_ Miranda thought, fighting back an eye roll.

"I know, I'm so sorry Miranda," the redheaded girl muttered, looking even more out of sorts as she glared pointedly at the factory women.

All of the factory women scrambled to get out of the way of the imposing figure that was Miranda.

"Foreman, is this squabbling common behaviour on your floor?" Miranda questioned calmly, not even bothering to glance in the direction of the foreman.

"M-Mme. Priestly, no of course not I-"

"You may address me as Miranda, and the tales of your incompetence do not interest me," came Miranda's sharp reply. Andrea and the woman she had been fighting with were quickly separated by their colleagues. Andrea couldn't help but be in awe of the way Miranda Priestly could be so undeniably commanding without raising her voice one bit. "We run a business here. This is completely unacceptable. I am very disappointed." At that moment Miranda looked up and caught the eye of someone Andrea couldn't see from her vantage point. Even if she had been able to see who Miranda was gazing at intently, it wouldn't have mattered. Andrea's eyes were fixed solidly on the ground before her. _Nothing good can possibly come from this. Even with the distraction Miranda provided I can't imagine the women here letting this issue die... It isn't like I want to be here, I have no choice, I need the work,_ Andrea thought with mounting concern.

"I expect you to deal with this... Situation... Quickly and effectively, foreman," Miranda said in a deeper, even more hushed voice as she walked toward the factory stairs slowly. Emily scurried after her._ What on earth is he doing here..._ Miranda wondered, panic bubbling up in the pit of her stomach, but she had learned long before never to show emotion that an enemy might use against you. _What if he recognizes me. It's unlikely, I've changed my person significantly in the years past, but nonetheless... No, never. Irv Ravitz will not get to me again. Never. Again,_ she told herself. _I am a successful woman now, I run my business with pride. Everything that Irv is is a part of my past and it will remain there._ She climbed the stairs of the grimy factory, intent on confronting her past head on.

* * *

"Who began this?" the foreman sputtered. Several women were quick to speak against Andrea.

"She's hiding a child. She has to pay a man to care for it. You can bet she picks up extra money sleeping around. She's menace and the boss wouldn't like it," said the woman who'd originally taken the letter from Andrea.

"Yes, it's true there's a child and the child is my daughter. The father abandoned us and now she lives with an innkeeper and his wife. I pay for her keep, what's the matter with that? I'm only trying to make an honest living. I need this!" Andrea exclaimed. The other factory workers proceeded to mutter about how Andrea would be nothing but trouble. Andrea was trying very hard not to cry, but there were tears of anger, frustration, and hopelessness in her eyes nonetheless.

"Ah, of course. Pure, innocent Andrea. I might have guessed it would be you who caused trouble," the foreman spat at her. Andrea shook her head furiously at him. She wanted desperately to explain, but no words came to her. "You act so virtuous, but you're really just a whore, aren't you?" Andrea, unable to hold back any longer slapped the foreman across the face. He simply smirked back at her. The other women in the factory shouted "Sack her!" "She's nothing but trouble!" Andrea continued to shake her head helplessly, knowing there was nothing more she could do now.

"Alright my girl, on your way." The foreman continued to smirk in a disgustingly self-satisfied way. He began dragging Andrea out by her arm. In a final, desperate attempt Andrea threw herself up the stairs screaming, "Miranda, Miranda, please, madame, please, I have a child!" She did not know why she thought this woman she did not even know would help her, but she had to try something. In the end she found herself thrown out on the street, sobbing violently to herself. _Merde, what am I going to do now. I have to save my beautiful child._ Her tears stained the pavement.

* * *

_What was all of that about...?_ Miranda wondered, dumbfounded, as she watched her foreman shut the door on the screaming girl who had just been thrown out into the cold. She didn't ponder the question for long though; she had more important matters to attend to, like confronting her former captor.

"Good evening Mme. Priestly," Irv said staunchly.

"You may call me Miranda," she informed the atrocious little man.

"Yes Miranda. I am the officer in charge of this sector. My men are at your service and that of M. Kippling."

"That's very forward thinking of you, Irving." _Clearly he doesn't recognize me. Hopefully he never will._

"You know me, madame?"

"Doesn't everyone. You're exactly the kind of man to have in one's back pocket."

"I am NO ONE'S pet Mme. Priestly!" Irv sputtered angrily.

"Miranda. And it's no concern of mine what you consider yourself to be. Nigel and I appreciate all that you and your men do to keep the dogs of the press from mauling us constantly." Miranda flashed him her most disingenuous smile. The smile hurt her face. He was the last person in the world she would ever smile at. But business was business.

"That isn't all we do and you know it." Irv looked as though he was going to continue his rampage, when Miranda cut him off.

"Naturally, naturally. Well, we look forward to your cooperation in matters of business. It's been lovely meeting you, I'm sure. Emily, what time is my dinner with Edward?"

"It's at 8, Miranda," said the young woman, who looked quite ready to leave the dismal factory. Emily quite dreaded these visits. The factories were always so depressing and the workers so dirty, she couldn't understand why Miranda always insisted on looking in on such places herself.

"We'd better go then, hadn't we," Miranda said curtly, turning sharply on her heels to make her exit, but not before glancing at Irv with lips pursed and an eyebrow raised in disapproval. He simply gaped back at her. She hoped that wasn't a hint of recognition that gleamed in his beady eyes.

Once she was comfortably situated in her carriage with Emily, she stared out of the window. In her efforts to avoid thoughts of her rather sordid past her mind flitted over the image of the girl that had been thrown out of her factory. What had the girl done? She hadn't even thought to ask.

* * *

_What can I do. Cosette needs a doctor, I have to do something. There has to be some way for me to get money._ Thinking furiously Andrea remembered Cosette's locket. It contained a lock of her darling daughter's hair. She could sell it. The locket was precious to her, of course, it was all she had left of her daughter now, but Cosette was more precious. She could part with the locket if it meant her baby would be well.

Andrea walked down to the docks of Montreuil-sur-Mer. Looking around the place was dingy, dark, cold, and terrifying, but she hadn't expected any less. She did her best to hold her head up high while also trying not to make eye contact with anyone. She wanted nothing to do with these people. She would die before sinking this low. _I'm only here to sell this locket,_ she told herself. _Nothing more. I'll collect the money I need and I'll leave. I don't know where I'll go, but I'll manage,_ she coached herself firmly. She tried to keep this mantra going in her head in order to ward off her fears and the dangers that were present all around her.

Voices laughed and shouted from various dark nooks and crannies. Prostitutes lined the walls, eyeing her with disdain. She saw a man who she was told would pay her for the locket. Andrea took a deep breath and approached the man.

"Bonsoir Monsieur. How much for this? It's my daughter's..." Andrea forced herself to say, her voice coming out as no more than a murmur as she showed the man the locket and chain.

"It'll be four francs for that." A voice that somehow managed to sound grimy and musty intoned.

"No! It's worth ten." Andrea insisted. This locket was her only hope and she knew it. The man only scoffed at her in reply and began to turn away. "Fine, four then." Deciding she had no other choice, she grudgingly accepted the money.

A man, more of a boy really, approached her. He got too close. His breath smelled of liquor; he was attempting to proposition her. In her haste to back away she dropped the lock of Cosette's hair on the ground. She dropped down immediately, frantically searching for the golden lock. Grabbing it and standing up, Andrea found herself surrounded by women selling their bodies and men hungry to spend their hard earned pay. She wanted nothing more than to escape the hell hole she had somehow fallen down.

Terror gripped her firmly as she ran past the gaggle of people and turned around a corner. Once she was alone she leaned against a nearby wall and sank down to the ground in defeat. She realised now that she had nowhere to go. Now that she had been kicked out of the factory she would no longer have enough money for room and board. She hadn't been given a reference, so her chances of acquiring another job were incredibly slim. She knew only that she had to escape this place. Four francs would have to do for the moment. With the money the foreman had thrown at her after tossing her out on the curb it would be enough to send to the Innkeeper for a doctor for her daughter. It wouldn't leave any money for food or shelter, but her life was not the one that mattered. Andrea had acquired a very singular purpose. Protect Cosette at all costs. Even at any cost to her own life. She set off to collect her belongings from her lodgings and send off what little money she had.

Several days later, another letter had come asking for more money. Though she hated the idea, she returned to the docks in the hopes that she could sell some article of clothing in order to raise the money. Andrea was living on the streets now. She was cold and hungry and to make matters worse her cough was worsening by the day. She walked along the soot coated walls looking for someone to whom she could sell her wares. After several hours of fruitlessly attempting to exchange what little she had for money she turned to leave the horrible, dismal place, when a cold, clammy hand grabbed her arm. Gasping softly Andrea turned to face the person to whom the hand belonged.

"What pretty hair," came the voice of some old crow. "It would fetch a lot of money, my dear. I'll take the lot." She crooned, reaching up and stroking Andrea's brunette tresses with her slimy hands.

"Don't touch me. Leave me alone!" Andrea said pointedly, turning to leave, only to be blocked by several prostitutes who did not look in the mood to negotiate.

"I'll give you all of ten francs for it," the woman said in a saccharine way that caused Andrea to shiver.

_I really do need the money. Cosette needs the money. I have to do whatever I can to save my darling girl. What difference can the loss of my hair make anyway, right? It's only hair, it will grow back in time... Time my child doesn't have. Ten francs may save my poor Cosette. I'll do it._

"Ten francs, what do you think of that offer?" Andrea said nothing, but followed the woman into some dingy hole. Tears formed in her eyes as she allowed the woman to hack off her long brunette tresses with an unreasonably dull razor. She felt more than the loss of her hair. She could feel her dignity and her drive slowly dripping away. _I just need the money,_ she continued to tell herself. _I need it for my baby, I'm not like these people. I'm not. I might be desperate but I am nothing like those women out there._

Andrea immediately went to go post the money. Somehow she managed to selflessly think only of Cosette as she sent away money that could have bought her something to eat. She coughed aggressively into her ungloved hand. She shivered as she walked, wrapping her thin shawl more tightly around her shoulders.

* * *

The next time Andrea found herself at the docks, a voice as distastefully sweet as the woman's who had taken Andrea's hair spoke to her. "Come over here. It's twenty francs for a tooth," the man coaxed. A woman, who was clearly accustomed to selling her body as well as teeth, joined the man in attempting to cajole Andrea into parting with her molars. Andrea coughed into her meagre shawl. The coughing had begun to wrack through her weakening body. She had been trying to shrug it off, more important things were at stake than her health. Andrea asked the pair to be given her money first, but she was simply laughed at. Two of her teeth were painfully torn out as she wailed and money was shoved haphazardly in her hand. _It's worth it. Of course it's worth it. I need it. Cosette needs it._

Andrea sunk to the ground against a hard cold wall. Very aware of the gaps that existed where her teeth had previously resided. There was nothing left. He mouth ached terribly and the only reason she could come up with to keep living was the well being of her daughter. She didn't even know how the girl was doing. Any manner of things could have happened, if she were honest with herself. She might never see her Cosette again. Suddenly Andrea found herself set upon by a gaggle of whores.

"You aren't better than any of the rest of us, you know," one prostitute leered. Andrea simply shook her head. Her mouth hurt too much to respond. It wouldn't have been in her interest to respond anyway. After all, she did think she was better than them. She had done a lot of things for survival that she regretted in the light of day, but at least she wasn't selling her body. There had only ever been one man… The one who had gotten her pregnant with her beloved, golden haired child. He had spent a summer by her side, making her feel loved and wanted. Only to leave when autumn came, leaving Andrea not only alone, but with child._ I loved him… And I was sure he loved me back. I was sure of it. He carelessly stole my childhood away. Leaving me no choice but to look for work. Like an idiot I still dream he'll return and save me from this hell, but I know it's not to be. Sometimes I see him in my baby's face… That face gives me such hope somehow._

"You're stuck here, you've nowhere else to go," snarked another whore, jarring Andrea from her reverie.

"Join your sisters, make money in your sleep." They didn't sound malicious, exactly...

"What choice do you have anyway?" _Perhaps this is as comforting and gentle as they know how to be._ Andrea shuddered at the thought. They did seem to have a point though. She knew from observation that they made decent money down by the docks. Sailors who had been out at sea for a long time with no one to come home to were plentiful and a quick lay was in high demand.

Andrea resisted at first, but she had known for a long time that her lofty ideals were dwindling quickly. She did not know if she would ever see her child again, but she would be damned if her daughter was going to die simply because her mother could not provide for her. Andrea knew that she would do anything, give anything, so that her Cosette might live. For this reason Andrea eventually allowed herself to be pulled up from the ground by her arms. One of the women handed her something to drink. She swallowed the liquid in one gulp. It was disgusting, but she could feel it help a bit with the pain, or perhaps the stinging sensation just brought a welcome distraction from her constant agony. It was all she could do to limp forward. Every part of her ached and hurt. She was so cold. So cold very cold all over.

Yet, at the same time, she felt as if nothing could hurt her. The darkness and the cold had engulfed her. _What does it matter?_ she thought. _What does anything matter anymore; I've nowhere to go. No one is going to save me from this desolation. Those women were right, I'm just like them now. There's no way out. I might as well sell my body. It no longer seems to belong to me anyway. I cannot possibly hurt more than I do now. I'll probably never see my girl again... If she's still alive, she'll have to go on without ever having a mother... It does not matter what happens to me now._ And with those thoughts she closed herself off completely.

* * *

Andrea took the hand of the man she was instructed to please. She led him to where they could be alone. He kissed her neck. His breath smelled strongly of liquor. She allowed him to take what he wanted, he was paying after all. He pawed at her until he finally pushed her down on a mat and pushed up her skirt. He continued to kiss her neck as he thrust into her.

For her part, Andrea simply stared up at the ceiling, tears leaking from her eyes. Her last vestiges of hope leaving her body. She wondered if the man inside of her knew he was making love to a woman who was already dead. Dead of mind if not yet of body.

When he had finished, he rose and threw a few francs in her general direction. She did not get up for a few hours. She lay there. Thinking, crying, in pain, and out of hope.

After that many men came and went. Paying her for her services. She no longer cried over it. She no longer cried at all. It seemed she had run out of tears at some point. She sent everything she could to the innkeeper who, in turn, kept sending her letters claiming that Cosette was benefiting from the care of doctors and was sure to get better soon, but not quite yet. Days rolled over into weeks. Andrea no longer paid attention to the passage of time. Time only reminded her of the pain she was constantly in. She was coughing harder and more frequently now, but she continued to do her best to ignore it. It wasn't as if she could do anything about it anyway. She often wondered if illness would claim her soon. She would not be surprised if death came for her; she wondered if she would go to hell when she did die. She imagined she probably would, unfortunately she couldn't find it in herself to muster enough energy to really care much about that. Her life felt dark, dingy and meaningless. She blended in perfectly with her surroundings. She felt nothing.

* * *

Time wore on and winter came. Snow had previously seemed light and whimsical to Andrea. Now it simply made her feel colder, though the feeling hardly registered. She could feel herself growing sicker and sicker, but there still wasn't anything she could do about it. She simply accepted the growing pain and increased coughing for what it was. She had come to terms with a fate that she felt was inevitable.

An eager looking dandy approached her after having waved off all of the other women offered to him. He removed his top hat as he strode toward Andrea.

"What have we here?" he asked smugly, lifting the hem of her dress with his cane.

"Nothing to interest you, Monsieur," Andrea replied curtly, mustering as much gall as her broken and beaten form would allow.

"You've got some nerve you whore!" he sputtered. Reaching behind Andrea he grabbed a handful of snow, shoving it down the front of her dress. Andrea screamed in shock and flailed wildly, trying to beat him off. In her struggle to throw him off she scratched his face. The cuts were deep; the man was bleeding.

"Ow!" the man howled. "Oh, you can be sure you'll pay for this! I'll make sure you suffer."

Unfortunately for Andrea several policemen chose that precise moment to walk down a set of nearby stairs toward where Andrea and the man were standing.

"Monsieur, please, please don't report me, please! I'll do anything! I'll do anything you ask!" Andrea begged helplessly. The man simply turned away to address the police.

"Officer, you'll never believe it! I was lost here, down by the docks. When suddenly, out of nowhere I was attacked by this putain!" he sputtered, putting on his best innocent victim act.

"Monsieur, you can be sure that if you make a full report this woman will be taken in and made to answer to the court," the officer who appeared to be in charge answered. The man Andrea had scratched was looking at her with the most disgustingly smug look she'd ever seen.

Andrea, who had by that time fallen to her knees, continued to beg. "Please, please, there is a child who needs me! I'm all she has... If I got to jail she'll die!"

"You think I haven't heard this all before, my dear? I have heard such stories for nearly 20 years now. Your chosen professor is your own sin, you must live with that and justice must be done," replied the officer calmly.

Just then a figure emerged from the shadows. Andrea recognized her immediately, even if she had not gotten a glimpse of the distinctly silver hair, she could not have mistaken the voice.

* * *

Miranda walked the dark alleys of the docks of Montreuil-sur-Mer preparing to hand out money and bread to those most in need. To anyone who knew her it would seem a most uncharacteristic act. She never told anyone of these outings, not even her personal assistant, Emily. She didn't want anyone to know that she did this or why. Naturally, no one ever questioned where she went. She was _the_ Miranda Priestly after all, those closest to her knew never to ask after her actions or motives. She did not exactly perform these acts of charity out of the kindness of her heart. Once, years ago, back when she had been someone else entirely, a man had given her a second chance. As much she wished she could let go of her past it still haunted her daily. She knew that that one event had completely altered the course of her existence and without that second chance she would not have the empire she had built from nothing. She paid penance to this reality by walking dangerous streets weekly in the hopes of helping in some small way. She also donated frequently to churches that housed and fed the needy. All anonymously, of course. Miranda had just removed herself from her lavish carriage, which looked unmistakably out of place, and was handing a scruffy man who was missing a leg some bread and some coin when she heard a scuffle nearby. She instantly recognized a voice she had loathed for years and would never forget. _Irv._ He was speaking to a young woman who was being held upright by two of Irv's men. Miranda was appalled by the scene unfolding before her. She could not have explained why, but she felt a deep pull toward this girl. The overwhelming need to protect her sent Miranda reeling. She instantly disliked the feeling and her first survival instinct was to ignore the emotions entire, but time had taught her to trust her emotional intuition - especially when it came to recognizing the true potential in people - so instead she cleared her throat.

"A moment of your time Irv," Miranda sniffed in her customary low, clipped tone.

"M-Mme Priestly. What on earth are you doing here?" Irv questioned as he whipped around, surprise evident in his voice. They hadn't come across each other in months and the docks were of course no place for a lady to be, however, Miranda look nothing like a lady. She was dressed in a man's brown trousers, a navy blue coat with a tall collar, a white cravat, and a top hat. She looked quite dapper, in fact.

"Please, Irv, call me Miranda," she said, flashing him a distinctly false smile, not that he would ever notice the distortion. "This girl is ill. She requires a doctor, not a jail." Andrea looked into the face of the woman who had neglected to save her so many months before. By this time the sergeants had relinquished their hold on Andrea and she staggered a few paces away from them.

"I've seen you before." Miranda's voice was softer around the edges now. "Let me help you. How did you come to be here? Allow me see your face..."

"Madame, do not mock me," Andrea spat. "I have lost my pride and my worth already. There is no reason for you to be cruel on top of it. You let your foreman send me away. You were there, and you let him do it! You let this happen!" This time Andrea really did spit at her. Miranda simply looked on with an expression of barely controlled shock. "My daughter will die now without me..."

"You will come with me," Miranda intoned. Her face was steely. She pulled Andrea up by her hand, but Andrea was shaky on her feet. Andrea tried to walk forward, but her knees buckled under her. Miranda placed one of the girl's arms over her shoulder as she supported her by her waist. "I'm taking you to a hospital. Where is your daughter? I will find her," Miranda said as gently as she could, shouldering Andrea's weight with little effort.

"Madame Priestly-" Irv cautioned, but Miranda simply ignored him and continued walking.

"Sh-she's with an Innkeeper and his wife. The Thénardiers." Andrea wept, not bothering to hold back her tears of happiness. Though she was almost certain death would claim her soon, she would at least be able to see her baby girl once more before the end. The last thing Andrea remembered seeing was the inside of Miranda's lavish carriage before she fell unconscious as she heard Miranda shout at her driver to hurry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own the things.**

**A/N: Thanks Mel, Jaz, and Ry, y'all are the best betas and emotional supporters ever!**

**Fair warning: I can't promise to spare everyone in this fic... This is Les Mis after all, and if you haven't seen or read it (I'm gonna spoil it) They all die. They die and they're miserable and everything just kind of sucks for everyone. I don't plan on EVERYONE dying here, but yeah... Feels are gonna happen and someone's gonna die. Just letting you know where we're headed with this thing.**

Chapter 2

When Andrea awoke she found herself in a place she did not recognize. She noticed she was in some kind of bed, in a dark, greyish room. She was surrounded by grey, filmy curtains. Moonlight seemed to be shining down on her from what she could only guess was a window above her head. A sense of panic rose within her at not being aware of her surroundings. _Where is Cosette?_ was naturally her first thought. Suddenly, she thought she could see the form of her little girl across the room, dressed in white. She looked so young, so innocent, so happy. Andrea had not seen such a beautiful sight since the day her baby was born and she had held her fragile body in her arms.

"Cosette, my darling," Andrea muttered. She felt so hot and so cold at the same time. She couldn't understand it and she didn't try. All that mattered was that Cosette was here now. "Cosette, it's past your bedtime. Night has come. It's time to sleep," she muttered. Her girl was so close, just beyond the curtain. Andrea needed to touch her, needed to know she was there. She attempted to rise, only to cough up blood into her hand and fall back in anguish. Andrea heard someone stand and move toward her. "C-Cosette...?" she murmured, not turning her head as she clenched her whole body in an attempt to keep the sharp pain in her chest at bay.

"Shh, Andrea. Try to relax. You are in a hospital in Montreuil-sur-Mer," uttered a voice Andrea thought she recognized. _Miranda._ Suddenly Andrea was flooded with memories of Miranda half-carrying her away from the docks into a carriage.

"M-Madame Priestly?" Andrea asked, her voice sounding weak even to her own ears. "Please, call me Miranda." Andrea finally managed to fight the exhaustion plaguing her body enough to turn her head to look at her rescuer. Though Miranda's words had sounded as cold and quiet as usual Andrea thought she saw pleading in her eyes with perhaps a glint of concern. But maybe that was just the fever talking. _I must be dying. It certainly feels as though I am_. Andrea felt as though she could sense death nearing her battered and beaten form. It was an odd and terrifying feeling.

"Oh, er... Andy." Andrea attempted a weak smile. "All of my friends have always-"

"Well, _Andrea_, I'm glad to see you're awake. That gives me the opportunity to explain everything before you go into surgery, but don't exert yourself too much. You are running a high fever."

_Wow the way she says my name feels so different. I usually don't like to be called Andrea, but when she says it it's like she's caressing it with her tongue. Caressing it? Her tongue? What...? Ugh, I-I can't think. Everything hurts..._ Andrea thought, feeling increasingly queasy as her mind attempted to latch on to the bits of information flying around her fever addled brain. _Wait, what? Surgery? What surgery? And didn't Miranda say she would bring Cosette? Has she gotten her? How long have I even been unconscious?_

Andrea's thoughts were scattered in every direction, however only one of her many questions made it out of her mouth. "Surgery?" she asked feebly.

"Yes. Surgery. I do not like to repeat myself, Andrea. I am making concessions only because you are quite ill."

"I am?" Andy was aware she didn't sound like the most intelligent person in the world at the moment, but she hoped that Miranda understood how weak and unwell she was feeling since she had been the one to bring her to this hospital in the first place.

"Yes, you are," Miranda affirmed sternly. "I have acquired the best physician in the surrounding area. He has determined that you have contracted consumption. You require an operation in order to drain the fluid from your lungs. Once you have healed sufficiently from the surgery you will be sent to my private home in the mountains to convalesce."

"W-why?" Andrea asked in bemusement. Her head felt incredibly fuzzy.

"Another thing I don't usually do is explain myself, Andrea. You would be wise to remember that." Miranda advised. "You are ill. I brought you to this hospital. You will receive the best care possible from now until you have fully recovered. I intend to locate your daughter for you, as promised. Once you are well enough you will work for me. You will take care of my daughters as well as your own and carry out any tasks Emily decides to delegate to you. Your daughter will be fully provided for. She will be in your arms again soon... But let's not discuss such things now. A doctor will be here shortly and your operation will commence within the hour. Focus on staying alive for now, Andrea. Nearly dead is not a very good look on you."

All Andy could do was lie there in stunned silence. She had so many questions, but Miranda had just told her that she didn't usually explain anything. And even if she could have asked Miranda something she had no idea where to start. Her brain was refusing to organize her thoughts into coherent sentences and her whole body was engulfed in pain. She wondered why Miranda was doing any of this to begin with. _Does Miranda want something from me in return? Impossible, Miranda must know I have nothing to give..._ Andrea then the door to the room opened. Andy was thankful that her train of thought had been interrupted. The conversation had exhausted her enough, and she was only left with more questions than she had begun with.

"Hello, Miranda," the doctor said as a nurse rushed up behind him with a bucket and began to dab Andy's face with a cold wet cloth. It felt so good, so soothing. It hardly mattered that the doctor was speaking to Miranda and not her, which, under normal circumstances, would have bothered Andy rather a lot. "I have some nurses coming with a stretcher, we will begin the procedure as soon as possible. It will take a few hours." _Procedure... What procedure? On me...?_ Andrea's delirious brain wondered.

"Do you foresee any complications, doctor?" Miranda questioned in her usual, aloof tone of voice. Andy feverishly wondered if the woman ever showed any real emotion when she spoke.

"No, no. Not really. It's a risky operation, it is at the forefront of new medical procedures, after all. However, I have performed it several times with success." Andy began to wonder if everyone in Miranda's presence had the good sense to address all information directly to her, regardless of others in the room.

"Well, I leave her in your capable hands then, Monsieur."

Andy's limp, fragile body was placed on a gurney and moved to an operation room. She was given ether. They began the operation. Andy didn't remember most of it, she was in and out the whole time. Every time she appeared to be coming around she was given more ether. She vaguely remembered moments of excruciating pain and then darkness.

When she woke up Andy found herself back in the grey room from hours before. Her abdomen seemed to be in even more pain than before, but she thought her fever might have gone down. She felt less delirious, though the room did seem to spin a bit. Suddenly a flash of white appeared at the edge of her vision.

"Andrea, you're awake." The voice seemed to be saying it more for their own benefit than for Andy's. "They will need to keep you here for several days before you can be moved." That didn't bother Andrea, in all honesty she felt that she might never be able to move again. Her vision spun as she tried to turn to gaze into the face the voice was emanating from. "I must return to Paris," continued the voice with the ghostly silver hair. "But everything is taken care of. You've nothing to fear. Rest now, Andrea." The partially disembodied voice seemed to give good advice. She did feel quite tired. It was a battle to keep her eyelids up alone. Andy allowed herself to succumb to dark of unconsciousness.

* * *

Miranda sat silently in her carriage, staring pointedly out of the window. Across from her sat her red haired assistant, Emily. Emily was doing her best to focus on quickly writing out a letter. Emily often dreamed of a time when her hand wouldn't be cramping painfully by the end of the day from writing almost constantly. There was always some sort of correspondence that Miranda needed sent to someone. If it wasn't a letter, Miranda would be rattling off a never ending list of commands, demands, and instructions that Emily would struggle desperately to jot down. By this point Emily had almost mastered the art of writing in a bumpy carriage. It was difficult and her handwriting suffered, but Miranda would want the letters sent out the moment they stopped for the day, so it wasn't as if she had much of a choice in the matter. She had been working for Miranda for over six months now. It was a job she knew she was lucky to have. She was a British girl from a well-to-do family, but she had career aspirations. She didn't want to be married off to the first wealthy man interested in her dowery. She wanted to work in the fashion industry, it was her passion. When she managed to get an interview with Miranda's previous assistant she was overjoyed. She had studied her French lessons with a renewed vigour. She knew this was her chance to finally get her foot in the door. She knew this was her opportunity to make it in the world without the help of her disapproving parents who had wanted her to be a good little English girl like her sisters and looked down their noses at her when she used vulgar language and expressed interest in having a career as opposed to a husband. For these reasons Emily buckled down and continued to do her best to focus on writing a letter to Nigel about the problems with the last issue of Journal des Dames et des Modes and how there would be hell to pay if these same discrepancies turned up in the following issue, but not in quite so many words. "I love my job. I love my job. I love my job," she muttered almost silently to herself as she scrawled out the words Miranda had outlined to her in the best handwriting she could muster while being jostled in the carriage. The past couple of days had been very odd. Miranda had had Emily completely alter her schedule without a word as to why. She had made several rather odd demands and disappeared without a word to anyone as to where she was going or when she would return. Of course, this hardly came as a surprise, Miranda never explained such things and one never asked.

Miranda sat, taciturnly musing over the past week. She had not expected to stay in Montreuil-sur-Mer as long as she had. She had gotten word that there was a problem at one of her factories and had planned to visit that factory and a few others in the surrounding area, which was a fairly average practice for her. Though she had been to Montreuil-sur-Mer several months prior on a similar visit, she felt it was appropriate since she had already traveled the distance. She was very involved in the goings-on of her factories. It was her name on the line after all, despite the common, very much intended, misconception that Nigel was the one running the operations. All in all, it should have been yet another fairly quick and mostly painless visit. Go in, talk to the right people, shake the right hands, inspect the premises - just to be sure everyone knew she was personally paying attention to the goings on in her factories - and then back to Paris. But then she had fallen upon Andrea. She still couldn't quite comprehend what had come over her. She had no justification for why she had rescued the girl. _But what's done is done. And there's that daughter of hers... Where did she say she was being kept? With an innkeeper called Thénardier? My schedule can barely allow for time to find the girl and take her back to her mother... But I gave my word and for some reason this girl has become very important to me in a very short time. Perhaps it's the guilt from not helping her all that time ago. Had I stepped in, she would not have ended up out in the cold all alone. But it does not seem to be the guilt that drives me. It feels like something else entirely... Surely it's the potential I see in her. I cannot simply allow someone to die when they could live a perfect productive life. Yes that must be it. Her potential. I see great things for her. I was given a second chance so long ago, why shouldn't she be allowed one as well? Regardless, I hope she's alright and that her health is improving. No doubt the hospital would have sent word if her condition had worsened. She should not have allowed herself to become so ill..._

"Silly girl..." Miranda murmured under her breath, shaking her head slightly. Disapproving of her own thoughts.

"Pardon, Miranda?" Emily asked, looking up from her frantic scrawling.

"Nothing. Have you finished the letter to Nigel yet? I need you to write to Jean Luc and tell him no. No I won't have Alexander cater the luncheon with John Spencer. I asked for Sébastien and that's who I expect to have. You also need to contact Serena and inform her that I need her to go and procure a young girl who is living with an innkeeper called Thénadier in god knows where."

"Yes, Miranda." Emily replied while viciously scribbling notes in her note pad. When she was the only person who had to read it her handwriting was quite deplorable. She stopped. "Wait, Serena? And did you say a young girl?" Miranda's lips pursed subtly as she continued to gaze calmly out of the window. Emily realised her mistake instantly. "Right, sorry, Miranda. Thénadier..." she muttered as she scribbled out the word. _I wonder what the bloody hell that's about. Why is she sending Serena of all people... She's never mentioned anything about a child before. Ugh. I love my job. I love my job. I love my job._

Emily dutifully finished the letter to Nigel and continued to write out various things Miranda dictated as the carriage bumped along. She couldn't help wondering what had possessed Miranda to have Serena go and collect a child from some unknown location. Of course, Miranda trusted the pretty Portuguese makeup artist. She did her hair and makeup for her and had for years. But surely she couldn't spare the woman for the time it would take to complete this task. Emily forced herself to abandon that line of thought. It wouldn't do to question Miranda's motives, that simply wasn't done. It wasn't as though she'd be getting any answers out of the fashion maven anyway.

* * *

The next time Andy awoke a nurse stood nearby with a chart in hand. "How are you feeling, Andrea?" an overly cheerful voice rang out.

"To be honest, I've felt better..." Andy said, attempting a smile that, despite her best efforts, morphed into somewhat of a grimace. In reality, she felt groggy and disgusting. Her mouth tasted foul and she was painfully hungry. Andrea continued, "But I've also felt worse. Thank you. And please, call me Andy."

"Of course, Andy. I'm Sister Marie." Sister Marie flashed a brilliant smile. "You should start to regain some of your strength in the coming days. Just be sure to get lots of rest," Sister Marie informed her as she took Andy's pulse.

"Uh, if you don't mind me asking... How did I come to be here, in this hospital? And how is all of this being paid for? My care, I mean. Everything is rather blurry, I'm afraid."

"It is my understanding that Mme. Priestly brought you here several days ago and has taken care of everything. I believe she is having you sent to the mountains to convalesce once you have healed sufficiently," Sister Marie replied while motioning for Andy to open her mouth so she could place a thermometer under her tongue.

_That's right... Miranda was here, by my bedside, before the surgery. After as well?_ It seemed like a fever dream to Andy now. Being brought to the hospital, Miranda being by her side until she had woken up after the operation, Miranda calling her "Andrea" in that commanding voice of hers. Andy was having trouble distinguishing dream from reality. She had thought, briefly, that Miranda has just been an apparition conjured up by her fever addled brain. Evidently not. One question broadcasted itself loudly through Andrea's thoughts. _Why_. She couldn't, for the life of her, reason why this woman was helping her.

"Er... Where is Miranda now?" she asked as the nurse removed the thermometer.

"I believe she has returned to Paris, Andy." _Oh, that's right. Miranda had mentioned that before._ Andrea found herself overcome by a strange sense of longing.

"So the good news is that your fever has receded and your heart rate is normal. You must be a very strong willed woman. You should start to feel better very soon. Can I get you anything?"

"Something to drink, perhaps?" Andy asked sheepishly.

"Oh, yes, of course. Let me just help you up." Sister Marie propped a couple of pillows behind Andy and helped her to sit up.

"Thank you, Sister." Andy nodded as she took the cup of water from Sister Marie. "Um, you wouldn't happen to know anything about my daughter, would you?" Andy inquired.

"No, I wasn't aware you had a child, actually." Andy chatted amiably with the nurse about her daughter and how she looked forward to seeing her until the nurse had to take her leave.

"There wouldn't happen to be anything to read around, would there?" Andy queried.

"Perhaps, I will see what I can find you," Sister Marie replied, rising to her feet with a smile. Andy smiled back; she hoped that nurse would find something, anything really. Andrea was not interested in being left alone with only her thoughts for company.

* * *

Several days passed and Andy's condition slowly improved. She was no longer coughing up blood, nor was she running a fever. Her abdomen still ached from where the surgeon had cut into her, her lungs still hurt, and breathing was still a constant battle, but it seemed that despite everything Andy's body was proving to be quite resilient. She was moving around more, feeling more steady on her feet. Finally the time had come for Andy to leave the hospital and travel to Miranda's private cabin in the Ardennes mountains. In the days Andrea had stayed at the hospital she had interacted mostly with Sister Marie. She told Sister Marie about her daughter and her hopes for her currently uncertain future. Sister Marie was very kind, telling Andrea about becoming a nun and about her life and her desire to help the sick. Marie assured Andy that the mountain air would help her recovery immensely. Andy couldn't help being nervous, though. She was going to travel for days to reach a place she had never been to before and stay in a house own by a person she didn't know at all. In short, she had no idea what to expect.

A carriage came to collect Andrea. She didn't have many belongings, she hadn't for some time. Just some rags she wore while she was living on the streets. However, Miranda had left a few clothes for Andy to wear. They weren't much, but they were functional, especially for making her way around the hospital. So with what little belongings she possessed, she climbed into the carriage prepared to endure days of sitting and watching the scenery pass by.

And pass by it did. The grim and squalor of the city slowly transitioned into open countryside full of lush fields and greenery. The constantly jostling of the carriage was very tiring for Andrea, but she made an effort to sleep as much as she could manage in order to regain her strength. By the fifth day of the journey Andrea was completely exhausted and relieved that they would be arriving at the cabin that evening.

Naturally, Miranda's "cabin" was anything but cabin sized. Andy was shocked by the size and in awe of the fact that she was going to be staying there. As she emerged from the carriage a man and a woman opened the front door of the house to meet her. The woman was dark skinned with curly hair and kind, deep, brown eyes. The man was scruffy looking with somewhat bushy hair and eyebrows, and Andy found his face rather pleasant to look at. They both greeted her warmly welcoming her inside.

"Hi I'm Andy. Well, Andrea, but everyone calls me Andy." Andy flashed her warmest smile at the pair.

"Hi Andy. My name is Lily, I'll be your nurse. This is Nate, he's the cook and housekeeper around these parts." Lily beamed politely while Nate smiled sheepishly.

"N-nurse? Oh, I don't need a nurse, really, I'm-" Andy stammered waving her hands in front of herself in protest.

"You just had surgery done, you're barely on your feet, you need someone to tend to your wounds. I'm going to be your nurse. You'll only be here for a week or so after all." Lily insisted.

"Alright. Ok," Andy acknowledged. The woman did seem to have a point.

"Here, let me get your bags. We'll get you settled and Lily can show you around," Nate stated as he grabbed her one bag and made his way inside followed by Andy and then Lily.

"Mon dieu..." Andy breathed out as she took in the grandeur of the house before her.

"Your room is up these stairs." Lily motioned to the stairs Nate had begun to ascend. "We'll have dinner soon, I'm sure you must be starving after your long journey."

After putting Andrea's bags in her room Nate and Lily left her alone to unpack and get comfortable.

"I'll come back in in a bit to help you dress," Lily informed her. Andy was shocked to find an entire wardrobe full of clothes awaiting her. _Did Miranda have these procured for me?_ Andy wondered to herself. She was in awe of the woman. Miranda seemed larger than life and also appeared to be eager to help her. Andy still couldn't understand why. She did not know when she would see the woman next, but she knew that her first question to her would be why? Why had she done any of this for a person she hardly knew. Andrea vaguely remembered the woman's presence at her hospital bed. She had asked why she was doing all of this for her then, and instead of an explanation Andrea found herself receiving something more like marching orders. Since that time Andrea had been pondering the question several times a day. It was all quite curious. She couldn't decide if she should be elated at her good luck or terrified about what it all might mean for her future and the future of her daughter.

Over the next several days Andrea grew fairly close with Lily and Nate. They were the only people around for one thing. Lily walked her around the grounds, which proved to be extensive. Andy found that the mountain air did seem to aid in her recovery. She felt she was breathing better every day. She felt stronger every day and her appetite was improving. The site of her operation was healing nicely according to Lily. Andy hoped that she would be strong for her daughter when she finally got to see her again. In the evenings they all sat down together for their meal and joked and talked and laughed about all manner of things. She wasn't completely certain, but she thought she could feel Nate's eyes on her when she wasn't looking. On the fourth night of Andy's stay in the cabin Nate approached her while she was alone on her way back to her room after dinner.

"Hey, Andy. I just wanted to tell you that you look really nice in that dress," he said cautiously.

"Oh, well thank you Nate," she replied with a warm smile.

"Yeah, you've been looking better and better every day. You're recovering really fast. It's like you were never sick," he said quickly. Andrea had noticed that she found his awkwardness endearing and refreshing, tonight was no exception.

"That's nice of you to say. I really am feeling better and it's all thanks to you and Lily," Andy said as she continued to smile at him. Nate had moved closer and closer while they were talking and before Andy fully realised what was happening the taller man had her practically pinned against a corridor wall. Suddenly Nate leaned in and attempted to kiss Andy. "Whoa, Nate! What are you doing?" she sputtered. Her smile faded instantly as she dodged the kiss.

"I thought this was what you wanted. You've definitely been flirting with me. And let's face it, you're all on your own now with a kid. I just thought-"

"Well you thought wrong!" Andy interrupted him. "I have no idea where this notion that I was making advances towards you came from, but I can assure you I have been doing no such thing."

"Come on Andy, I know what girls like you are like. You could stay here, I could help raise your daughter. We could be a family. I know that's what you really want. Tell me I'm wrong here."

"You know full well that Miranda had me sent here. She wants me to work for her when I'm well. I don't really have a choice, I am indebted to her and her kindness. I don't even know you very well, we've only just met. Nate I'm-"

"Sorry, yeah. I'm sure you are. Well, I'm probably the best offer you're going to get given that you're a whore. Just keep it in mind," Nate grunted as he backed off a bit.

"That's completely unfair, Nate! You know why I did the things I did! I didn't have a choice!" Andy was having a hard time restraining herself from shouting at him. At that exact moment Lily came up a near by set of stairs and said, "Oh, hey, there you both are. Andy, you should really get some rest. It's getting late."

"You know Lily, you're very right. Bonne nuit, Lily. Bonne nuit, Nate." With that brief greeting Andy turned on her heels and scurried to her chambers quickly slamming the door.

"What's the matter with her?" Lily asked, surprised at their friend's behaviour.

"No idea," Nate replied with a shrug as he slouched off to his own room leaving a baffled Lily in the hallway.

* * *

"Miranda, these two messages were sent to you via courier. They look urgent." Miranda extended her arm to take the proffered letters from her assistant. Miranda sat in her stylish, but daringly designed office looking as formidable as ever.

"Emily, I'm having an early lunch with Gautier today, confirm my appointment with the interior designer for 11 tomorrow, and I'm moving the run-through up to 9am tomorrow. I need scarves from Fforde. Tell Nigel that the sketches of the Worth won't do at all and need to be redone and on my desk before 4 tomorrow. That's all," she rattled off, all without looking up from the correspondence in her hands. Emily obediently fled upon hearing the words that dismissed her.

Miranda broke the seal on the first letter and found that it was from Serena. She quickly scanned the letter hoping for good news regarding Andrea's child.

_Miranda, _

_I discovered that the child has been living at an inn in Montfermeil. I travelled here immediately and I am currently staying at the inn in question, observing the goings on here. The girl is safe. She is not, however, in good hands. The Thénadiers treat her very poorly, while simultaneously worshipping their own daughter. They are crooks and not to be trusted. I believe they would give her up easily for the right price. I believe this is a situation that warrants your attention and your... Shall we say, gentle touch. I suggest you come and collect her in person. _

_All of the best, _

_Serena_

Miranda mulled this information over for a bit. _Yes, that will be acceptable. I can schedule in some time to rescue Andrea's daughter, return her to her mother and have all of us return to Paris together. I'll tell Emily to cancel or reschedule everything for next week I'll leave on Monday. I think that will be quite suitable,_ Miranda mused. She would go over the details with Emily later. The gorgeous Portuguese woman always seemed to know the best course of action. She was Miranda's most trustworthy employees, on par with Nigel. She had been with Miranda since almost the beginning and though she acted as Miranda's hair and makeup guru, she was much more than that. She was capable of more than most people would ever know.

Now, for the second letter. Who could it be from? Miranda look at the seal with curiosity. It appeared to be Nigel's seal. Which was odd, he was in Rouen overseeing the preparations for the showing of several new designers. She opened the letter, her curiosity piqued.

_Dearest Miranda, _

_It appears that some chap called Irv has been making inquiries about you and your past around these parts. I'm sure it's nothing, but I thought you'd like to be made aware of this particular bit of gossip. Also, I'm sure you'll be thrilled to know that everyone is woefully unprepared for this showing, but that should come as no shock to you. _

_Sincerely, _

_Nigel_

That certainly was not something Miranda had been expecting. And if there was one thing that Miranda despised in the world, it was the unexpected. She mentally added discovering Irv's, no doubt, nefarious intentions, to her to do list and placed both letters in her desk drawer and locked it.

"Emily," she said in her iciest tone.

"Yes Miranda?" Emily asked, scurrying back into the office of her ever imposing boss.

"Cancel everything for next week."

"But Miranda-"

"Reschedule anything that cannot be canceled and find a temporary nanny for the girls. It seems they've scared off yet another one."

"Miranda I-"

Miranda gazed at her assistant over her glasses as if she had never seen her before "That's all." Emily knew that she would be getting no further answers and had been quite firmly dismissed. She hurried back to her own desk in the outer office muttering curses between affirmations of "I love my job. I love my job."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I continue to not own the things.**

**A/N: Thanks again to my betas**

**Sorry for the long wait between chapters. I hope you enjoy this one. Thank you so much for reading!**

Chapter 3

A couple of days later, Andrea sat at her vanity gazing at her reflection in the mirror. She had grown incredibly gaunt from her recent bout with tuberculosis and death, and her hair was still impossibly short. The loss of her hair bothered her the more than anything. Her long, glossy, brunette locks had been a huge part of her identity. She found that this exemplified her loss of self. She stared pointedly at her reflection, pondering over all of the things she'd lost recently. She had lost her hair, her teeth, her health, a treasured locket, her daughter for far too many years, her sense of self, and all because she lost a man she thought she'd loved. As her reflection gazed back at her she noticed that her eyes had lost most of their lustre, but they were slowly regaining their gleam. However, Andrea realised as she gaze into her own eyes, the shine of youthful innocence and naivete was gone permanently. _Maybe it's for the best. I have to grow up sometime..._ She thought as she ran her fingers through what remained of her hair with a sigh.

* * *

It had been two days since her confrontation with Nate and Andy still found herself uneasy in his presence. She did her best to avoid him during the day, and their evening meals had become significantly more quiet; which, naturally, Lily noticed.

"Andy, what's been going on with you and Nate lately? You two hardly exchanged five words over dinner and he keeps looking at you oddly." Lily questioned quietly while she and Andy lounged in the sitting room. Lily was doing needle work while Andy read one of the many books from the well stocked library she had been thrilled to discover in one of the rooms in the cabin.

"Um, nothing. I guess we've just said everything there is to say already. We've run out of topics. It isn't as though any of us do much all day." Andy replied shrugging her shoulders, attempting to focus on her book and ignore her friend.

"True, but you're both acting... Different somehow. Something must have happened." Lily insisted.

"Well, I suppose you deserve to know. Nate made...inappropriate advances toward me, several nights ago." Andy knew she wasn't a good liar and decided that Lily deserved an explanation for the awkwardness that had settled over their little group. She did have to live with them, after all.

"He did what?" Lily asked skeptically.

"He told me he wanted me to stay here. To be with him. When I rejected him he said some really hurtful things that I haven't found it in me to forgive him for yet."

"Well, it's not such a bad idea, you know..."

"What isn't?" Andy asked, looking up, her attention now completely diverted from her reading.

"Nate's hardly the worst guy you could find. Certainly better than some of the ones you've been with."

Andy instantly took offense to this. _How dare she? I told them both about my life hoping they would be understanding and all they've been doing is throwing it back in my face_. Andy sighed. She wanted to believe more than anything that her new friends cared for her and wanted whatever would be in her best interest, they just didn't understand the situation.

"Lily, I'm not exactly in a position to make serious life decisions right now. I almost died and the woman to whom I owe my life requested I work for her after I have recovered. She's even bringing my daughter back to me. Mon dieu, I can't just decide to settle down. I'm not saying Nate isn't a good guy, under other circumstances I'm sure I would have accepted his offer in a heartbeat, but this isn't about me. It's about my child. It's about what I owe Miranda. It's about the fact that I won't be here much longer, we're going to Paris." Andy rambled, trying her best to explain. She knew her voice sounded pleading, but she only wanted Lily to understand the position she was in.

"I suppose you're right. Just, make up with him or something. You're both making dinner incredibly awkward." Lily said after a few moments.

"I'll do my best Lily." Andy sighed with relief.

* * *

"Miranda, I'm glad you are here." Serena said in her lovely, accented voice, as Miranda gracefully stepped out of the carriage dressed in a fitted dark brown coat, cream trousers, a rich purple double breasted waistcoat, and a cream cravat. Miranda made a habit of always travelling in men's clothing. She found that she looked more imposing and it made the uncomfortable task of travel a bit more bearable than it would be in a cumbersome gown.

"Bonsoir, Emily." Serena added, leaning slightly to the left to look the auburn haired assistant in the eyes as she greeted her.

"Hello Serena." Emily said absently, looking up briefly before she continued to scribble down the things Miranda had just finished demanding from her. By this time Emily had been briefed on the situation. Or at least, she had been given the information Miranda had deemed her important enough to know, which according to Emily's hastily written notes were something about a sick woman, a future assistant, a child that needed to be procured, and Miranda's cabin in the mountains. Either way she knew she was expected to accompany Miranda to Montfermeil and then to Miranda's cabin and perform her duties as an assistant as always, but she still had no idea why Miranda was going through all of this trouble.

"Where's the girl?" Miranda asked in her typically icy tone. She had been travelling in a carriage since 6pm when she had finished her with her appointments for the day and it was now 10 at night. Naturally the hour only increased her impatience, resulting in a deep desire to get to the point as soon as possible. Now was not the time for pleasantries.

"Of course. The child is inside of the inn as we speak. She is alive and well, but that is where the good news appears to end, as I mentioned in my letter. The inn is as disgusting a place as can exist without being a house of ill repute. She is made to do chores children should never do. She is rather dirty and most certainly neglected. I highly doubt she was ever ill, though. The Thénadiers simply wanted more money out of the mother."

"I see. Emily. Wait for us in the carriage. We won't be a minute." Miranda tossed over her shoulder as she strode toward the inn. Emily was nothing short of relieved, at least her hand would get a break from writing.

"M. Thénadier?" Miranda asked the man at the door of the inn.

"At your service! What can I do for a... Er... lovely lady such as yourself, my esteemed patron."

_How did Andrea ever manage to leave her child in the care of someone so repulsive?_ Miranda wondered with disgust. Serena's description of the situation was appearing to be very apt indeed.

"Where is the child, Cosette? I'm here to collect her on request from her mother." By this time Mme. Thénadier had appeared from some dark corner, no doubt having just been participating in some sordid activity.

"The mother sent for our darling Colette?" M. Thénadier exclaimed with incredibly false gusto, his hand flew to his chest, as his wife elbowed him in the side hissing, "It's Cosette."

"Indeed. I intend to gather her immediately. Money is of no consequence." Miranda replied boredom seeping through her low tone. She wanted nothing more than to acquire the child, leave the pitiful excuse for an establishment, and never look back. The whole endeavour was a waste of her time to begin with.

"We don't care about the money, surely you understand what the little darling means to u-"

"Honestly," Miranda huffed, turning to Serena she asked, "Do _you_ know where the girl is?"

"I believe I saw them send her to fetch water from the well in the woods just before you arrived."

"At _this_ hour? It's dark out, not to mention freezing. Go and get her at once." Miranda ordered. With that Serena strode out into the night to fetch Cosette.

* * *

Serena walked out into the woods, her skirts swishing in the quiet of the evening. She spotted the little girl struggling with a pail full of water that was clearly too heavy for her. She hurried over to Cosette.

"Hello there." She said gently, stooping down so that she would be level with with the child.

"Oh, um... Hi. You're staying at the inn aren't you? Mme. Thénadier tells me not to bother the guest." Cosette replied meekly, her eyes fixed on her own small feet.

"It's ok, you aren't bothering me. If anything I'm bothering you." Serena replied with a wink. "I work for a woman who has come to take you away from here. Here, let me help you with that." She said as she took the bucket from the girl's small hands.

"Is she my mother? Has my mamá finally come for me? I always dreamed she would! Is she gorgeous? I'm sure she must be. So lovely and caring and gentle... She has come for me, hasn't she?" Cosette gushed excitedly.

"I'm afraid that is not the case, my dear..." Serena said taking the child's hand in her own, watching the girl's face fall. "You see, your mother fell ill. She was very sick and my employer took care of her. Miranda promised your mamá that she would find you and return you to her."

"Miranda?" Cosette repeated questioningly.

"Yes, that is who I work for." Serena affirmed

"So you're... Going to take me to my mamá?" The child asked, hope seeping back into her voice.

"Yes, my dear. But first we must go inside so we can sort everything out with the Thénadiers." Serena said, straightening herself, Cosette's hand firmly in her grasp, as she began to walk back toward the inn.

"They won't give me up, Serena. They like getting the money mamá sends. Mme. Thénadier is always telling me how the money mama sends is hardly enough to cover the trouble I cause them by being here, but I know she likes getting the money anyway. They use it to buy nice things for their daughter." Tears shone in Cosette's wide, blue eyes; the tears visible to Serena even in the dark. _Naturally she's scared, who knows what sort of false and hurtful information these people have been feeding the girl all this time._ Serena thought with mounting anger.

"I wouldn't worry, my dear. Miranda will take care of all of that." Serena smiled at this, despite her anger at the Thénadiers. Miranda was indeed handling the situation at that precise moment.

* * *

"Now, as for a price-" Miranda began.

"You could never ask us to put a price on our dear Corinne." M. Thénadier interrupted.

"Cosette" Mme. Thénadier cut in.

"Our _dear_ Cosette." M. Thénadier corrected.

"I don't believe I_ asked_ you to do anything of the kind, M. Thénadier. I'm perfectly aware of the kind of games you've been playing. I _know_ Cosette is as healthy as you or I and has been the entire time she has been in your care. You have been conning Andrea out of her money."

"How dare you impl-" M. Thénadier interjected.

"Well I never in my-" Mme. Thénadier added at the same time as her husband.

"The only harm the girl has come to has been you treating her poorly and working her much harder than a child of her age should ever have been forced to work." Miranda continued, cutting them both off. "You know, I think it would be _more_ than fair to charge you for all of the labour this child has done for you. I believe 1,500 francs should cover all the expenses that her time in your, so called _care_ may have incurred. Subtract, oh shall we say, 500 francs for the labour. I'd say 1,000 francs is an incredibly generous amount." Miranda intoned as she removed 1,000 francs from her purse and shoved it into the hand of the stuttering M. Thénadier. Just then Serena walked into the inn with a bucket in one hands and Cosette's hand held firmly in her other.

"You certainly took your time, Serena. No matter, we've just finished here." With that pronouncement Miranda turned swiftly on her heels and stalked toward the door. Serena put the bucket down by the entrance and followed her intrepid boss out toward the waiting carriage, practically pulling a confused Cosette behind her, leaving the scheming innkeepers gaping speechlessly in their wake.

* * *

Miranda walked swiftly to the carriage, climbing in next to Emily. Serena helped Cosette in and then climbed in herself, settling across from Emily. Emily had already given the carriage driver instructions for their next destination, so they started moving immediately.

"Hello Cosette, my name is Miranda." Miranda said in a tone softer than her usual business tone, it was a tone reminiscent of the way she spoke to her own twin daughters, as she smiled across at the dirty little child.

"Bonjour Mme. Miranda." The little blonde greeted while she stared at her knees as she kicked her feet back and forth nervously.

"You may call me Miranda." She corrected gently, though her words seemed to be phrased as a request it was clear, even to the young girl, that she was stating an order.

"Thank you for taking me away from that place, Miranda." Cosette mumbled in response.

"Think nothing of it, ma petite. We are going to see your mamá now. It's going to be quite a long journey, I'm afraid. I am sorry we left in such a hurry, I hope there wasn't anything we left behind that you were particularly attached to. We'll get you nice and cleaned up and into pretty new clothes as soon as we can." As she uttered the words Miranda turned her head to glare at Emily. The auburn haired assistant instant understood jotting down that clothes needed to be acquired immediately if not sooner in her notebook.

"Well, I did have a doll...My mamá gave it to me before she left me there. It was the only thing the Thénadiers allowed me to play with..." Her bright, blue eyes darkened with sadness at the thought.

"Oh, ma petite, we'll get you a new doll, any doll you want. You can even pick out several toys. Would you like that?" Miranda suggested, hoping to cheer the girl up.

"Oh, yes please Mada- Miranda. I would like that very much." Her small, round face began to colour with excitement.

"Very well, we will get you those as soon as we can." Miranda proceeded to glare daggers at Emily again. Cosette nodded enthusiastically in response. After a while Cosette grew bored of staring out of the window at the sights and fell asleep in Serena's lap. Miranda, on the other hand, continued to gaze out of the window, lost in thought.

_That poor child and all she's been through. Her and her mother both. She's filthy and clearly petrified, how long she must have been suffering..._ Cosette's condition made Miranda think about how she might feel if her own girls were being treated so poorly, she found this train of thought to be terribly upsetting. She couldn't imagine being in Andrea's position. She wondered what exactly Andrea had endured in order to continue paying those disgusting thieves masquerading as innkeepers. She wondered how Andrea was recuperating. She once again found herself questioning why she cared at all, only this time she looked across at a fragile, sleeping child and found that she couldn't brush the emotions aside like she would've preferred. She finally settled on chalking the whole thing up to maternal instinct instead. Her mind then flittered over to thoughts of Irving Ravitz. _Has he figured out who I am? Or who I was all those years ago... Impossible. It's been ages. My appearance is entirely changed. I'll never forget him, though, so perhaps... If he does know he won't stop until he's found me. He's always been idiotically relentless that way. God, but he could destroy everything I've worked for. Take my girls from me. No, no I simply won't allow it and there's nothing more to it. Nigel will surely keep me in the loop. I'll do whatever it takes to keep him from finding out my true identity. And if he does... Well, he will have to be dealt with._ She glanced to her side to see Emily and Serena passing notes. Miranda rolled her eyes._ I suppose it's preferable to idle chatter._ She thought.

* * *

After Serena had settled Cosette comfortably in her lap and it was clear the girl was asleep from her even breathing the blonde make-up artist entertained herself by staring at Emily. She often played this kind of game with the redhead. They frequently found themselves in rooms or carriages with Miranda, who was well known not to tolerate much useless babbling, so the people around her found non-verbal ways of communicating. Serena would gaze at Emily until she looked up from whatever she was writing (she was, of course, always writing something or other) and once the dedicated assistant looked up Serena would try to make her laugh or blush by pulling faces.

Emily felt Serena's gaze on her and looked up only to find the blonde beauty smirking at her. Serena winked at Emily and Emily immediately felt a blush rising from her chest up to her pale cheeks; she ducked her head and continued writing, her auburn locks falling in front of her face like curtains. Serena waited a few moments before snatching the notebook from Emily's grasp. Emily gasped, scandalised, then realising her mistake she slap her hand over her mouth. Sneaking a glance at Miranda she realised that Miranda was paying them no attention and practically sighed in relief. Content that Miranda hadn't been disturbed by her outburst she turned her eyes to Serena glaring fire at her. Serena merely smiled brilliantly and plucked the pen from Emily's hand as well. Emily made a grab for both items, but Serena raised her hand as both a warning and a signal for Emily to wait a moment. Serena flipped to a blank page, jotted something down, ripped out the page, and passed the note and pen back to Emily. Emily's eyes widened in apprehension.

_Isn't your hand sore from writing yet?_ The note read. Emily proceeded to glower at Serena and held out her hand for her notebook. Serena simply smiled at her mischievously and shook her head.

_No it is not and I still have work that needs to be done. Give me my notebook back!_ Emily scribbled furiously, thrusting the note at Serena petulantly.

Serena smiled and wrote, _I will give it back only if you promise to continue talking to me. I'm bored._

Emily huffed, but wrote back, _Miranda will be annoyed if she sees us passing notes like schoolgirls._

_You mean you don't want Miranda thinking of you as a naughty schoolgirl?_ Serena scrawled, passing the note back with a smirk.

_HOW DARE YOU!_ Emily scribbled furiously, looking wholly affronted.

_Hush, you like it. Do stop glaring at me._ Serena passed back the note, thoroughly enjoying her game.

_No. I shan't._ Emily continued to glare in mock exasperation. She also enjoyed playing these childish games with Serena, though she did her level best not to let it show.

_It's odd to see Miranda behaving the way she does with Cosette._ Serena mused passing back the note.

_Isn't it though? She only acts like that around the twins._ Emily replied having given up on making Serena return her notebook.

_She is a cute little girl, though, isn't she?_ Serena wrote as she looked fondly at the sleeping child in her lap.

_I suppose she's alright. She's terribly dirty. And I mean, do we really need another little gremlin running around demanding god knows what?_ Emily wrote, not completely convinced that any of what they were doing on this excursion was a very good idea.

_Well, it's hardly her own fault that she's a mess. Those animals treated her terribly. And I don't think she's a gremlin. She's been through so much, Emily, she deserves to be loved._ Serena wrote back.

_She does look rather precious laying in your lap like that._ Emily relented.

_I'm sure she'll look like a golden haired angel once we've cleaned her up._ The blonde woman wrote with certainty.

_Why did we travel all this way to get her anyhow?_ Emily wondered, less certain than her companion.

_To take her to her mother._ Serena replied with the obvious.

_What's so special about her mother?_ the redhaired assistant asked. She knew that was their purpose, but she already had her doubts. _Why does Miranda need another assistant anyway? I'm perfectly competent..._ Emily thought to herself, already disliking this woman, whoever she was.

_I really couldn't say. You know how Miranda is._.. Serena wrote, finally handing Emily back her notebook, though they didn't stop their correspondence.

* * *

An hour and a half later they arrived at the inn they would be staying at for the night.

"Come along, little one. We've arrived" Serena said quietly shaking the sleeping Cosette gently.

"Ermm..." she murmured drowsily. "Is this where mamá is?"

"No, ma petite. We've stopped at an Inn for the night. We won't reach my cabin where your mamá is for several days." Miranda interjected.

"Oh." The girl yawned as her big blue eyes drooped.

"Come on, we'll go inside, get you cleaned up, then get you into bed." Miranda said kindly.

"Yes Miranda." She said obediently, hopping down from the carriage stumbling slightly in her weariness. Once Miranda had gracefully exited the carriage she noticed that Cosette was swaying on her feet and lifted the girl into her arms. Cosette's small legs wrapped around Miranda's trim waist easily, her arms wrapping around a slender neck as Miranda rubbed comforting circles on her back. Emily and Serena exited from the other side of the carriage. Emily rushed inside to get the keys to their room from the innkeeper while Serena instructed Roy, the carriage driver, on where to put their luggage.

"Emily, I need a bath prepared for Cosette." Miranda instructed once they had reached their rooms. The small girl in her arms struggling to stay awake.

"Of course, Miranda. Right away." Emily scurried off to complete her task.

Turning to look at the child in her arms Miranda announced, "There is some correspondence that requires my attention; you may sit beside me while I work if you'd like."

Cosette nodded, slightly bemused. She was more awake now and taking in her surroundings. She had never been anywhere so lovely. Everything was so clean, and tidy, and it even smelled nice. Cosette had a hard time believing that an inn could be so beautiful when the inn she had spent most of her life in up to this point had been so distinctly antithetical.

"You'll have to be quiet while I work, though." Miranda said kindly. Cosette nodded again and Miranda moved a chair next to the one already at the writing desk and placed the child down in the chair. Cosette sat patiently looking over Miranda's arm to try to see what she was doing.

"Do you know how to read, Cosette?" Miranda asked curiously as she continued responding to a letter Nigel had forwarded to her from Gautier regarding the issue centred around attending the opera.

"No, I don't..." Cosette replied, shaking her head. "Somethings I can pick out. The sign outside says that this is an inn. I can spell my name. I'm not sure I can write it, though." The girl sounded apologetic.

"It's alright, ma petite. When we return to Paris we'll get you lots of new clothes and toys and a tutor so you can learn." Miranda assured as she finished the letter and sealed it. Just as the wax was drying on the letter Emily came through the door of the sitting room turning toward the washroom with two men carrying large buckets of steaming water.

"That'll be your bath. Let's see about getting you all clean." Miranda announced standing, Cosette followed suit and took Miranda's hand as they walked toward the bathroom.

The men had poured the water into the awaiting tub under Emily's supervision.

"The luggage has been brought up and everything is taken care of for our early start tomorrow, is there anything else you need?" Emily asked, backing toward the door.

"That's all." Miranda succinctly threw over her shoulder and the redhead scampered away.

"Alright, in you go." Miranda said lifting the girl into the warm water after she had removed the disgusting rags she had on. Miranda washed the little girl's hair thoroughly, until the filth came away revealing golden strands. After her hair was rinsed Cosette opened her eyes and asked cautiously, "What is my mamá like?"

"Hmm?" Miranda questioned, paying more attention to scrubbing the grime from the girl's body than her inquiry.

"I was just wondering what my mamá is like. I don't really remember her..." Cosette repeated.

"Oh, well, let's see. She's missed you terribly. She's been through a lot though, so you'll have to be gentle with her at first." Miranda warned.

"Is she pretty? As pretty as you?" Cosette queried.

"No one is as pretty as me, darling." Miranda snorted delicately. "But yes, she is very pretty." When Miranda really thought about it, she wasn't actually sure of the truthfulness in her answer. Of course, she would have told Cosette that her mother was gorgeous regardless of whether or not it was true, but when she really considered it, she didn't know whether Andrea was pretty or not. The clearest picture she had of Andrea when she was quite sick. No one looks attractive when they're ill. She had only ever seen the girl one other time, and only very briefly, so she could not say for sure whether or not Andrea was attractive. Especially when it came to the standards of the queen of the fashion world.

"Do you think she loves me?" Cosette continued, gazing off distractedly, no doubt picturing what her mother would be like in her mind's eye.

"Oh, she loves you very, _very_ much. Do you think she would send me to fetch you if she didn't?" Miranda responded.

"But she left me with those awful people!" Cosette objected.

"She didn't know how terribly they would treat you, ma petite. She had no way of taking care of you herself, though it was naïve of her, to be sure, she had no way of knowing how cruel they would be." It occurred to Miranda that she also did not know what lead Andrea to the circumstances in which Miranda had found her. There were many questioned to be answered once Andrea was reunited with her daughter. "I think it's best if you don't tell her how poorly they treated you."

"Why?" Cosette asked puzzled.

"Your mamá, she is still recovering from being ill and she would feel so horrible about the way those monsters treated you it might prevent her from getting any better." Miranda disclosed carefully.

"Alright, I won't tell her." The girl agreed.

"Very good. Well, you're all clean. Let's dry you off and get your hair and teeth brushed. I brought along some clothes that used to belong to my daughters. We're going to stop to have them fitted for you tomorrow. This way you'll have something decent to wear before we return to Paris where we'll have clothes made for you."

"You have children?" The little blonde asked as Miranda brushed her hair. Looking in the mirror on the vanity she smiled, thinking about how she looked and felt pretty for the first time she could remember.

"Yes, mon chouchou are twins. You'll meet them soon enough. Now, off to bed."

Miranda tucked Cosette into a bed in an adjoining room before returning to her room and preparing for bed. She fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

What felt like only seconds after Miranda had fallen asleep she heard a small knock at her door.

"Yes?" She voiced authoritatively at the closed door. It creaked open slowly displaying a little girl rubbing her eyes sleepily.

"Is everything alright Cosette?" Miranda asked, shaken out of her tiredness by concern.

"I dreamt that I woke up and I was back with the Thénadiers and they were very cross with me... They... They-" She sniffled and rubbed indignantly at her eyes as tears began to fall.

"Oh, ma petite. Why don't you sleep here with me? We'll see if that helps make the bad dreams leave your pretty head." The child nodded and climbed into bed with Miranda. They fell asleep, Miranda with one arm around the girl, while Cosette nuzzled into her rescuer.

* * *

Early the next morning, before the sun rose, they were back in the carriage, bumping along the road. By lunch time they arrived at a moderately sized town where Miranda knew a tailor who could do a few alterations to her daughter's clothes so they would fit Cosette better. They dined at an establishment Miranda had deemed "acceptable."

Miranda looked across the table at Cosette, " You will be spending the afternoon with Serena and Emily" Cosette nodded, beaming. Emily glanced down at her notes for what Miranda had in mind for them to do. _Take her to Maurice. Then to get toys. I'll be at the Three Horse Inn._ Maurice being a tailor they had done business with in the past. Miranda like him because he and his team worked quickly and did "satisfactory" alterations.

After the fitting, throughout which Cosette had done her best to behave even though she was being poked and prodded for what had seemed like hours, the trio walked toward the general store each woman holding one of the little girl's hands.

Cosette gazed around the store in awe. It seemed to her that all the toys she could ever imagine had all converged in one place she could hardly contain her exuberance.

"What can I get?"

"They have some dolls, why don't we look at those?" Emily suggested. Cosette practically dragged the women across the store to decide which one she wanted. Then her eyes landed on a doll she instantly fell in love with. The doll had long curly brunette locks, big brown eyes, full lips, and wore a white dress. The dress reminded Cosette of her mother, or at least the mother she had spent her life dreaming about, she immediately felt that that was the doll she wanted.

"I want that one!" She exclaimed, pointing and tugging on Serena's sleeve. Emily nodded and went off to find the shop keeper.

"Why don't you pick a couple more things to keep you occupied while we're on the road?" Serena recommended.

By the time they left Cosette had her new doll wrapped securely in her arms while Emily carried a bag of some clothes and accessories for the doll and some paper and charcoal the girl could draw with.

"Do you like sweets, little one? There's a bakery on the way back to the tailor." The girl squealed, her blond hair bobbing around her head as she bounced up and down. "I suppose that's a yes." Serena smiled as they set off for the bakery.


End file.
